


of the Caldera

by iRockYourSocks



Series: A Ballad of Change and Power [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Game of Thrones AU, Gen, implied Zutara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1857495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iRockYourSocks/pseuds/iRockYourSocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter what title he held, whether it was his or the place of his birth, Leng would always be, first and foremost, Zuko's son.</p><p>Sequel to Child of the Isles</p>
            </blockquote>





	of the Caldera

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stellatiate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellatiate/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Zuko finds him by the sea, toes dipped in the sunset hues and eyes trained straight ahead. He can see the ships sailing away, to far, distant lands and new adventures.

“Leng, we were looking for you,” he quietly murmurs. His son turns around, and at the dry look he gives him Zuko corrects himself. “ _I_ was looking for you. What did you run off for?” He sounds more annoyed than he means to be, and his scowl is in plain view but not directed at his son.

Leng huffs, blowing his cheeks out. “I hate it here! I’m so, _so sick_ of those old ladies whispering about me like I can’t hear them, and it’s not like their staring is normal. They never stare at Asako or Hidekazu or even Kenji. Just _me_. Dad, what did I _ever_ do wrong to deserve this?”

Zuko looks into his son’s pleading eyes and sighs, looking out towards the water. “Our family, we didn’t handle your…. _situation_ the way that most families would. I refused to turn you away and raised you with your brothers and sister like—” _like your mother would have wanted_ “—like a normal family.”

Leng turns, incredulous. “But we’re not a normal family, Dad! I’m a…I’m your _bastard_ and _nobody_ in this forsaken country will let me forget that!”

“You are still my son and—“

“But to them I’m _not_! I’m not Leng of the Caldera, I’m Leng of the Isles, bastard of the south.” He hastily wipes at his eyes. “According to them, illegitimacy means I’ll _never_ be your son. Do you have _any_ idea how _hard_ this is for me?”

A bird flies overhead. Zuko glances up and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Did I ever tell you about the day I brought you home after the war?” When his son shakes his head, he sits on the bank next to him, toe of his boot dipped in the water and not caring. “Well, I could hardly see with my eye bandaged, my entire torso was wrapped in white linen, and I was on the riding on the back of this massive komodo rhino with the whining bundle clutched to my chest.” He squeezes his eyes as he remembers the trip back. “It was miserable, but I remember looking down at your face and trying to make the trip back home for you. Mai was pis— _angry_ at first,” another side look, “for a while, but I wasn’t mad at her for being mad at me. I did have, uh, _relations_ with another woman.” Leng rolls his eyes at this, amused that his father tried to censor the conversation even though he was fourteen. “She was quite the woman, your mother. A spitfire at that, trained in both combat _and_ healing, which was unheard of for a woman.” He looks off into the distance, a longing look in his eyes.

“So what, you like girls who can beat you up, is that it?” Leng jokes, nudging Zuko. He’s seen the way Mai throws knives and constantly avoids his stepmother, who sometimes looks like she’d like nothing more than imbedding him with a shuriken.

Zuko snorts a laugh, ignoring his son’s disturbed expression. “She actually beat some sense into me. I…I appreciated her, no, I _adored_ her. Not that she needed to hear that in a ballad like the noblewomen around here.” They share a laugh. “Your mother, she loved you, don’t forget that.”

Leng purses his lips and trains his eyes back to the open sea. “If she loved me so much, why did she give me away to come _here_?”

Zuko’s brow furrows. “She hardly ‘gave you away,’ Leng; we figured that your life would have been easier for you here. They thought that I took advantage of her in the healing huts, who knows what they would have done to you if—“ he cuts himself off, rubbing his face with his hands. “It was a decision that we both agreed to. I was already married, we figured I could take care of you just fine. It was the hardest thing she’d had to do. She wouldn’t stop crying and _Spirits_ , she loved you so much.” He bites his lip and looks away.

Leng wets his dry lips with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Can I…can I ask you what her name was?”

Zuko lifts his head, eyes looking into the water that still reminds him of those 18 months spent with her. “Katara,” he murmurs, softly, as if her name could be carried with the wind. His eyes shift to rest on his son, his boy with a face so much like his but with eyes like hers. “You have her eyes,” he chokes out, a lilted smile on his lips. “And no matter what they say, you are still _my_ son.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was smacked in the face with inspiration. I meant to write for another story, but hey, it's a start


End file.
